


Please PLEASE Help Me!

by EbethBeatlebub



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: (sort of), Crossdressing, Multi, Sexual Experimentation, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26325640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbethBeatlebub/pseuds/EbethBeatlebub
Summary: John thought it'd be fun to muck around in drag while Mimi went out. However, she's going to be home soon and what's NOT so fun is getting stuck, and being unable to change clothes. Maybe with a little help from his friends...? They can get him unstuck and changed in time, right?
Relationships: Cynthia Lennon/John Lennon, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Please PLEASE Help Me!

The grocery bags in Mimi's arms tumbled to the ground; fruit bouncing, eggs smashing, a tin of beans rolling dramatically far from the rest of the pile, stopping against the leg of a chair.

Paul is shirtless and frozen kneeling with his arms wrapped around Cynthia's waist, his whole body pressed against her back, his legs on either side of hers. Cynthia is straddling a half-naked-stockings-clad John on the floor, her hand on his shoulder, holding him down to the floor. Her other hand is pulling at what appears to be... a bra. A ripped up dress, bra inserts, and a broken pair of heels are strewn about the floor. 

**_"John Winston Lennon, what is the MEANING of this???"_ **

**

It was all fun and games, you know? Steal some clothes, shave, dress up, put some make-up on... John wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do  _ after  _ that, but the first part sounded fun anyway. He'd had some difficulty getting the stockings and underwear, and particularly the bra, since there were so many confusing sizes. At least with stockings he knew he needed tall ones, and panties he needed a large or a vaguely medium size, but the bra had been a gamble. 

Just his luck it  _ almost  _ fit, but it wouldn't clasp up in the front, the width of the band not being enough. Not willing to go out and get another one, John had done a bit of a hack job at sewing it together. No sweat, he could cut it loose later. Done sewing, but not finding the scissors right away, he simply bit the end of the thread, then stuffed the cups. Looking at himself in the mirror, he snickered, biting his lip as his eyes shifted up and down. He didn't exactly look girly in it all, but there was something thrilling about it. The poor panties hardly contained his crotch, and with all the excitement it was struggling  _ further.  _ He laughed again, then slipped into that sexy dress he'd scored. It was a lot more modern than anything Mimi wore, and matched something Cynthia had. He'd have taken  _ hers  _ but he needed another size. Plus, god forbid she ever find  _ out.  _ He smiled stupidly. As terrible as it'd be if she  _ did  _ find out, it'd still be rather funny, the look on her face, the embarrassment. Oh, dear, there goes his cock again. 

He took a deep breath and attempted the zipper. It was in the back, and whilst he could do most of it up, he ended up requiring a bent hanger to pull the tab all the way, and once actually  _ on  _ him it was apparently tighter than he anticipated. He looked at himself again.  _ Damn  _ he looked  _ good.  _ Well, about as good as he  _ could  _ look in  _ these  _ clothes. He briefly wondered what Paul would look like in them (causing the front of the tight dress to get a  _ bit  _ tighter). He shook himself off, trying to not go there for now. He didn't want to ruin anything he was wearing because it'd be so hard to wash or replace them, living with his aunt and all. 

Next was the shoes. He'd had the shoes for a while now, having nicked them from a shop ages ago hoping Cynthia would wear them, but they'd been way too big. It was actually from these shoes he got the idea. He'd tried them on and realised he really liked the way they looked on his feet. Sure enough, even with the stockings on, they still fit and his legs looked even better in them now. He grinned, giggling like a child, sticking his legs out, swaying his hips. The dress made his fake tits look bigger and he cheekily grabbed them, squishing them in the mirror. He hadn't done any make-up yet, but with his hair unstyled and hanging down naturally, he did look like a bird... Maybe an ugly one, but definitely  _ one.  _

"Hullo, stranger," he said to his own reflection in a mock sultry voice, "What's a pretty lass such as yerself doing here?" 

He couldn't take himself seriously, busting up and being unable to stop smiling. Each time he'd see his own face it'd happen again. 

After an hour of flirting with his reflection and going about the house like that (made some tea, struck a few poses in doorways, danced in the hallway), he finally decided it was time to change back. Mimi would be back home in just under an hour and he wasn't keen on being caught. Not that being caught didn't sound exciting, it was just his aunt wasn't the best  _ person  _ he'd like to be caught by _.  _ So, he took off the heels, one of them had broken anyway due to one of his little dance stunts. Then he tried to sit down, but couldn't. Of course that didn't stop him from trying anyway, but it was proving to be too hard because of the dress. 

"Fuck," he tried to reach around to undo the zipper. It was  _ already _ hard to reach the back of his shoulders and neck at that angle, but harder still to get the damn tab to pull down. Each time he did get a hold of it, it'd slip out of his fingers or the whole dress would tug down instead of the zip itself. He was actually a bit out of breath, it was that much of a hassle to get it off. He started looking for that hanger again. The hanger unfortunately was not easily navigated either. He had to loop the hanger into the hole of the zipper tab, and even with the mirror as a not-that-helpful guide, he was still nowhere near successful. He glanced at the clock.  _ Shit.  _ She'd be back in less than 45 minutes now. He had to do something else. 

He considered cutting himself free, but he  _ really  _ liked the dress and didn't want to break it. He needed help from someone else. He went to go and call up...  _ hmmm...  _

Who the hell does one call in a situation like  _ this?  _ He could call his girlfriend, being a woman herself and all meaning she'd have more experience but... then what if she dumped him? Seeing her supposedly tough, manly, scouser boyfriend in a glittery slip and stockings, and a stuffed bra??? Ah,  _ no.  _ He might be not so sure what he was doing with Cynthia, but he'd rather not break up over  _ this.  _ That left him with other...  _ other blokes...  _

God no! That's not a good option either! He can't just-

_ *knock knock knock* _

He swivelled on his feet and stared at the door. It wasn't Mimi, that much he knew, since she had a key. It had to be someone else. He was sweating all over now and his heart was racing awfully. The door knocked again and he jolted forward, stopping abruptly before the door and taking some breaths. Whoever was on the other side  _ could  _ be his saviour  _ or  _ the bringer of his doom. 

He leaned forward to peek through the little hole in the door. 

_ Thank fuck.  _

"Anyone home?" Paul asked from the other side, about to knock again. If  _ any  _ of his friends were to find out about this whole thing, at  _ least  _ John had leverage over Paul (in the form of one very drunken and definitely not homosexual makeout session that'd happened not that long ago). He yanked the door open a tad, standing completely behind the door except for his extended neck and head, peeking around the corner. 

"Afternoon," John mocked a posh accent, trying to regain his cool through humour. 

"Err...  _ yeah,  _ afternoon," Paul bunched his brows up, a bit confused. 

"Care to join me inside?" John continued, face completely straight despite the obvious red tint across his skin. 

"Err... _ y e a h... _ " Paul began to look as though he was getting suspicious. John closed the door and ran to another room, calling out behind him,

"It's unlocked, just let yerself in," 

Hesitating, Paul opened the door and stepped in. The house didn't look any different at least, but John was nowhere in sight. 

"I'm in the lounge," he heard him calling, as if reading his thoughts. Paul felt a bit weird about this entire situation, but he cleared his throat, and pressed on. He rounded the corner, eyes to his shoes as he pondered what the  _ hell  _ was going on. Then a pair of sleek black stockings came into his line of vision. Ones being  _ worn.  _ Paul said nothing but his eyes trailed up the smooth, shiny fabric until it cut off mid (hairless) thigh. Then, without missing a beat he dragged his eyes up a  _ very  _ tight and sparkly dress, too tight to hide  _ something  _ and then he stopped when a pair of...  _ tits  _ came into view. His eyes flit between the convincing tits, and the obvious cock a few times before  _ daring  _ to look all the way up. 

John had a dead look in his eye, face red, and an aura of shame was wafting off him like the smell of sweat. 

"Hullo," he meekly said under his breath. 

Paul, a mixture of  _ way too hot  _ and also the thrill of catching  _ John  _ in such a compromising position, felt like he could do two things:

  * Help him
  * Laugh at him



John practically was  _ demanding  _ he didn't laugh, glaring into his very  _ soul.  _ But Paul's face bunched up and he bit his lips, a hand coming up to cover the bottom half of his face as his eyes began to water. 

In a deep, and louder than necessary voice,

"Does your father know what a good kisser you are?" John threatened him, perhaps a little seductively. He didn't know whether he was angrier or hornier. His body and mind were mixing up emotions and it showed. Regardless, it got Paul to stop and he stood up straighter. 

"You wouldn't," he said, folding his arms protectively. 

" _ Try  _ me," John challenged him, hands on his glittery hips. Though he wasn't prepared for Paul's hasty response of;

" _ Gladly, _ " 

The younger lad threw himself at him, pulling him into an embrace, heatedly taking charge of John's shocked lips. Whilst not entirely  _ against  _ this turn of events, John unfortunately had to stop him. He used all his might to pull Paul off him, and then with a deep breath he blurted it out 

"I need you to help me get out of this," 

" **_Gladly_ ** " Paul repeated but  _ hornier  _ this time, taking off his own shirt wildly. John shook his head and pushed him away again, 

"NO! My aunt is coming home in less than half an hour and I'm  _ stuck _ ," he clarified. That made Paul finally get it. He stood back and crossed his arms again, embarrassed. Both of them decided, silently, that they were going to pretend that this whole thing hadn't happened. 

"Right-oh, whatcha need help with, then?" Paul asked. He'd taken a couple of dresses off in his time, and he assumed it'd probably be not that bad. John turned around, happy to just get on with it. 

"Zip's stuck," he said, "tried everything so far," 

Paul stepped back over to him, and had a go at it. He had a  _ second  _ go at it... 

" _ Christ, _ " he wheezed as the zipper tab slipped out of his hands on the third go, causing him to hit himself in the stomach as his fist drew back too hard. 

"Yeah, I  _ know _ " John groaned, "Try the hanger," he said, pointing to the well worn out hanger on the floor. 

Paul picked it up and winced. It appeared that John had been at it for a while now. He slipped the hanger wire into the hole of the tab and then after taking a breath he yanked down. 

... 

... 

"Paul?" 

... 

"The zip's broke," Paul muttered defeatedly. 

John whipped around and gawked at the hanger, then the zip on the  _ floor.  _ He glanced back up at Paul who had the most apologetic look on his face. 

"I-" 

" _ Save it _ ," John stopped him, trying to not get mad. God he didn't want this dress to be ruined, but it seemed like there wasn't much choice now. He pushed past Paul and into the kitchen, "I guess we'll have to cut the damn thing off,"

Paul followed behind. John began opening drawers up and looking around. As he doubled back over some areas and drawers, he moved to another room. Then another... 

"Where the  _ bloody hell _ have all the damn scissors gone?" he cried out, precious time now  _ wasted.  _

Paul had begun helping, but had less luck. 

"John..." he said, face pale, "I had a look for a knife just in case we couldn't find any scissors, but..."

John turned to look at Paul, an unbelieving look in his eye, "Oh god please tell me you found a knife," 

It seemed a bit dangerous, but John trusted Paul with his hands. But unfortunately, Paul was very noticeably empty handed. 

"There's only butter knives, John, I can't find any knives anywhere save for ones too damn  _ big.  _ I can't cut you free with a bloody  _ meat cleaver,  _ can I?" he said, hands on his hips, biting his lip nervously. 

John's eyes flitted down to his hands. 

"Oh god..." he sighed, then looked up at Paul again, "You're gonna have to use yer hands," 

Never before had the idea of tearing a dress off with his bare hands seemed like a worse fate, but Paul complied. In all the fuss and whatnot, they hadn't heard Cynthia letting herself into the house, and didn't hear her announce herself, but they sure heard her yelp when she rounded the corner to the lounge room just as Paul viciously ripped John's dress down the back, the whole thing splitting nicely down the back seam and falling off as Paul jumped back, letting go of the fabric. 

" **_John_ ** _! _ " she shouted 

"Cynthia!" Paul stuttered out

" _ Paul _ ?" she asked incredulously, not having recognised him at first

"Err, John?" Paul turned to him, shoving off the responsibility of explaining to John now.

"Oh for  _ fuck's sake _ , look, Cyn, it's a long story an' i haven't got time to explain," John groaned, hands on his hips. 

Cynthia, totally fucking  _ lost,  _ just stood there staring at John's lacy black panties with a mixture of horror and lust. John groaned  _ again _ , walked over, and lifted her head up to meet his eyes. It was like Paul all over again. 

"Mimi is going to come home in," he checked the clock and went pale, " _ twenty minutes,  _ and I  _ need  _ to get changed,  _ please  _ help me," he begged, his pride less important than his life by this point. 

Cynthia at least could understand the need to avoid such an event as Mimi catching him like this. She would want more answers later, but right now she could put it aside.

"Well," she looked him over quickly, "At least you have half the work done, just take the bra off and go change," she said, "what help do you  _ need?"  _

Paul hummed in agreement, nodding. 

John looked dead in the eyes again. 

"There's no scissors or knives in the house and I've actually err..." he felt the blood rising, his ears pounding with it loudly. Paul's eyes widened, and unfolded his arms. Cynthia screwed up her face in confusion, 

John muttered, "I've sewn the bra onto meself to keep it clasped..." he admitted. 

" **_FUCKING HELL, JOHN,_ ** " the two of them shouted in unison. John raised both his hands up, and then backed away from them both. 

"Look, if it's too bloody hard for you, ye can both piss off and I'll try and do it alone," he said, fed up with all the mucking around. 

"Ugh,  _ no,  _ we'll help, John," Cynthia sighed and then walked up to him, inspecting the clasp. It was actually sewn on... not  _ well  _ as in technically, but well as in 'good luck getting this undone'. 

"Well?" John asked, eyeing the clock, "Anything??" 

Cynthia grabbed the bra and began to yank. It wasn't even so much as budging though, and getting her fingers under it had been so damn hard. 

"Oof!" she tried again. 

Paul tried next, but his fingers were too thick to fit under the fabric at  _ all.  _

"Maybe unstuff the cups," he said, "maybe it'll be looser then,"

John pulled the little inserts (also stolen) out of the bra and then tossed them onto the couch lazily. 

"Better?" he asked. 

Unfortunately all that had done was made him look like he had deflated tits. The band itself was unaffected. They stood there, all in varying states of anxiety and doom. Then Paul had an idea. 

"Cynthia,  _ you  _ pull it, and I'll pull  _ you _ ," he said.

"Right!" Cynthia nodded and took her place. She slipped her hand under, then Paul came up behind her and wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hand went to grab  _ her  _ hand to assist. They counted to three and then yanked hard as they could, but all it did was cause the three of them to go flying, Paul landing on his back, and John and Cynthia landing on top of him. 

" _ Fuck,"  _ Paul cursed and the two others got off him, "Okay... Okay maybe  _ John  _ should lie down so we have some surface to keep him against," he said next, not giving up. 

John got up and laid down on his back. Cynthia got up onto him, straddling his hips and got her hands into position. Paul followed, coming back around Cynthia to attempt again. They repeated the process, same as before, and had been on about the third try before suddenly... 

**_"John Winston Lennon, what is the MEANING of this???"_ **

**

It hadn't been very easy explaining themselves, especially when the 'truth' they all told Aunt Mimi was actually a three-way fabricated lie;

_ 'We were playing truth or dare, and Paul dared John to wear Cynthia's clothes but got stuck in them,'  _

Mimi had tossed out the old knives and scissors for being too dull and broken respectively and had popped out to buy more along with some groceries, which in some cases she now needed to replace again. John was reprimanded, and Paul and Cynthia were sent home. 

However... 

**two weeks later**

John knew it was a gamble, especially twice in one month in the same house, but they couldn't do it at Paul  _ or  _ Cynthia's place. The bag of new clothes and shoes had come as a shock to him, and more so shocking was the note that accompanied them;

_ 'Better luck next time? We got you better sizes this time. Hope you like them. Maybe we'll see you take these off for another reason, Love your two  _ _ best _ _ friends (Paul & Cyn)'  _

At some point the two had apparently called one another to discuss  _ the incident  _ and had come to the conclusion that... honestly, if they all just accepted that they wanted it, it'd be better and easier than ignoring it in the long run. The two of them were waiting in John's room, now that he was finally allowed to have company over again. Mimi was out, and they had  _ plenty  _ more time this time. He leaned into the mirror and checked his make-up one last time before heading out. 

He opened the door, and leaned against the frame, a hand on his hip. Paul and Cynthia sat up straight and looked at him with dark eyes and flushed cheeks. 

"Hullo,  _ strangers, _ " John smirked and winked. 


End file.
